


Lié

by vacci_piano



Series: Omega Assassins [6]
Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Anal Fingering, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Canonical Character Death, Cunnilingus, F/M, M/M, Omega Verse, Omega/Omega, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rimming, Sex Toys, Sexual Assault, Vaginal Fingering, but not Élise, omega Arno Dorian
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-20
Updated: 2020-04-20
Packaged: 2021-03-02 05:22:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23749876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vacci_piano/pseuds/vacci_piano
Summary: Two omegas in love, and one slimy git who tries to get in the way.
Relationships: Arno Dorian/Élise de la Serre, Pierre Bellec/Arno Dorian
Series: Omega Assassins [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1704466
Kudos: 27





	Lié

**Author's Note:**

> Trigger warnings for: underage sex (Arno and Élise are in their late teens at the beginning of the story), sexual assault, bad-touching and attempted rape. The character at the receiving end of these unwanted advances doesn't feel like they got raped, but _the reader might not feel the same_. Proceed with caution. I also hesitate to tag corrective rape because I don't want to trivialize IRL issues (and same-sex and omega-pairs aren't exactly interchangeable since there are still distinctions between men and women in this verse), but I'm drawing some heavy parallels so be warned if that is something you find upsetting.

One day, just a few months after his sixteenth birthday, his muscles ache more than usual. His sudden fever leaves him exhausted; something is twisting in his gut, but the fever is too strong, he can scarcely lift his hand. He passes out, and when he comes to, his fever is gone. He carries a different smell.

He has presented.

*

Arno must come to terms that he is an omega now, that he will never be Élise's alpha. Élise is quiet, but instead of moping, she scents him and gets a contemplative look on her face.

*

His face is burning when monsieur de la Serre offers to procure a heat tutor for him. Usually only peerage are urged to accept such an offer; it would be considered unbecoming for someone of his social standing to have one. He does not have _the morals_ of his betters, and, receiving _help_ might lead him to temptation.

Monsieur de la Serre disagrees with such nonsense. In truth, so does Arno, but he is much too shy for such _guidance_. He thanks his guardian anyway.

“Élise had a heat tutor, too. There is nothing to be ashamed of.” Now Arno's face is burning for an entirely different reason as he imagines Élise in her bed, eagerly responding to her tutor's commands. Mercifully, monsieur de la Serre lets the matter drop and leaves Arno to his duties.

*

He spends his first heat alone. The fever and aches are painful, his cock achingly hard and slick keeps pouring from between his thighs. He does not know what to do, but he rides out his heat by himself, and the ones after that.

Somewhere along the way, after spending so much time together, his and Élise's heats change in their timing. Their heats are in sync now.

*

He is not drawn to alphas like omegas are supposed to. Their scent holds no allure.

There might be something wrong with him.

Élise is hiding from her tutor. She appreciates – _like_ may be too strong a word for it – the secret lessons her father gives her. Those are necessary, if she wants to achieve her goals. How to learn the steps to a new fashionable dance, however, test the limits of her patience; today she is without any. Arno finds her in the garden, surrounded by freshly cut topiaries. They start chasing each other in empty corridors, like they did when they were younger, but are forced to stop and find sanctuary behind heavy curtains when her tutor spots them and gives chase.

Their legs are longer now; Élise is slightly taller, but Arno is not worried. If his lateness to present is anything to go by, he is not done growing. Besides, were Élise the tallest amongst his acquaintance, he would still find her uncommonly pretty.

“Élise...” He starts. “Do you...?”

He doesn't know how to ask, and his throat feels dry. Élise touches his hand and he finds comfort in the gesture.

He continues. “Do alphas smell good to you?”

Élise remains quiet for a moment, before she squeezes his hand.

“Yes,” she finally says, and Arno feels like the carpet has been pulled from under him. He tries to breathe, his throat closing up as he stares at the noses of his buckled shoes.

“But I like the scent of omegas, too.”

His head shoots up, eyes impossibly wide as Élise's cool fingertips brush against his cheek and she presses her lips against his. He thinks he will never forget this moment as long as he lives. The lips are soft like velvet and he no longer cares whether he will draw another breath again. Too soon, their kiss ends, but she does not pull away. He does not think he could bear to let her go if she did.

“Will you spend my next heat with me?” She murmurs against his lips and he finds himself nodding, too fragile to speak.

*

It is the middle of the night when Arno slips out of his room and nearly kicks over the fresh jug of water placed outside his door. In the morning a loaf of bread will be placed there as well, maybe some cheese, but Arno never feels that hungry during his heats; it will not raise suspicions if it is left untouched. His heat only just started before nightfall, so he is still mindful enough to pick up the jug of water and take it with him. He navigates through the many stairs and corridors until he comes to a stop outside of Élise's room, and he raps his knuckles gently against the door. She opens it and greets him with a smile, cheeks pink.

They still have their clothes on when they fall into bed, petting each other with gentle hands. Arno has heard of grooming behavior between omegas in heat, but it still takes him by surprise just how relaxed and peaceful he feels, when before he was jittery and anxious. His eyes flutter half-shut and his breathing evens out, heartbeat slowing down, almost like his body thinks he is sleeping, floating on clouds; Élise is similarly affected. Their bodies are thrumming with pleasure.

He runs his fingers through Élise's curls, and she moans in bliss. They stay like that for a few more hours before the heat hits Arno in full force. Élise helps him get out of his night gown, now damp with sweat and slick, before throwing away hers.

“How would you like to do this?” Élise asks, but Arno is too far gone to give a coherent answer, so she positions him into a kneeling position, his head coming to rest on a pillow while his weight is supported by his knees and elbows. Arno gives a pitiful whine as she makes soothing noises and rubs his back. “Let us start easy, then.”

Arno keens, but then a tongue is lapping at his entrance, and clever, gentle fingers are stroking his hardening length, touch feathery light. Slick runs down his thighs in rivulets and he feels like he might faint. He comes when the tongue pushes deeper, his seed coating Élise's fingers, but she keeps going until he comes a second time. He sobs and she shushes him.

“P-please... Élise... I need...”

“What do you need?”

“I need... I need _more_. Please, please, just make the pain go away. It hurts.” The warmth from Élise's body disappears and soft footfalls let him know she has left the bed, and he panics, _please do not leave me, please,_ too feverish to understand her actions, but then she is back, and everything is alright in the world again.

His elbows give out when a finger finds its way inside him, followed by another, their pace slow, until she has worked four fingers inside and a thumb traces his rim. He is gasping and trembling by the time she nudges a smooth phallus inside, mind blank with pleasure.

She does not stop until he passes out, somewhere after his fifth release. When he comes to, head momentarily clear again, he sees Élise looking at him, her pupils dilated and lips shiny. The phallus is gone, and he feels a little empty. He welcomes her into his arms, and she lays down on top of him, her soft breasts pressing against him. He rubs slow circles into her skin and she shudders in pleasure.

They enter another sleep-like trance, until it is her turn.

He discovers he likes the sweet, honeyed taste. Élise trashes and grips his hair tight, almost to the point of pain, when he licks and his lips suckle around the small bud between her thighs, one finger curling inside her walls until it reaches something spongy; he keeps prodding at it. When she comes, her slick sprays everywhere and soaks the bedsheets under them.

When he tries to insert the same phallus she used on him – the thought of their combined slick makes him shiver from excitement – she stops him and begs him to sheathe himself into her, instead. Arno kisses her in apology, even as she cries. He tries to explain how he cannot give her a knot, how it is too risky for him to penetrate her since they are both in heat since and their bond is strong even without a bite - she will end up pregnant - but she does not understand. The fever will not let her.

*

The morning light streaming through the windows wakes them.

Arno fetches the heavy tray that has been left outside the door. Pastries, both savory and sweet, marzipan confections, fruits - cut into delicate pieces - and hot chocolate, left to cool in its cup. It is still warm.

She licks his fingers when he feeds her the pieces of fruit and their juices travel down his digits, and he discovers he has an appetite after all, when Élise takes a pastry and tears it into two, presenting him with the other half. Their eating makes a further mess of the sheets, but it hardly matters.

The loaf of bread at his own door is forgotten about.

*

When monsieur de la Serre is murdered and Élise rejects Arno in the ensuing mess, it is not the heats spent with her he misses the most, even if they torment him.

Arno cannot find it in himself to take up another heat partner, knows Élise will not be able to do so either. Their bond was too strong; it left its mark, unseen but felt. Like a phantom bite.

Despite what he knows to be true, Arno wishes she will find someone else, if only so she does not suffer as he does.

*

Heat suppressants are hard to come by these days. The few chemists and doctors who are trained to make them – for those who can afford them – are dwindling by the number, making friends with the guillotine. There are a number of mixed potions and powders peddled by merchants, but chances of them working are slim.

Arno’s new profession has afforded him new connections; some of them he has forged himself. Unfortunately, he knows just the person to ask for help.

Marquis de Sade, Arno has decided, is revolting. A girl - who can be no more than fourteen, and that is being generous - is sitting at the marquis’ side, gaze unfocused from opiates as the alpha plays with one of her nipples, playfully flicking at it. All the while Sade leers at Arno, clearly displaying his interest, tone condescending and appreciative in equal amounts.

“Tell me something. Does your profession allow you to make friends? Ones you could trust to take... _proper_ care of you?”

His mind conjures up Napoleon's image in fleeting, but he dismisses the thought almost immediately. He does not want an alpha. But that is not what Sade is asking.

“ _Not interested_.” He grits out.

“Mmm... Pity.”

Sade promises the name of his supplier in exchange for seeing one of his tasks completed. Arno agrees to the terms, knowing the marquis will keep his word. For some strange reason, the marquis seems to hold Arno in _some_ regard.

Their alliance is an odd one.

Arno looks at the poor girl still being molested. He sees the omega prostitutes roaming the room, hardened by life but their eyes no less hollow, and then his own eyes fall on a couple of newcomers. Their arms and backs still bear the marks from a whip, maybe even a knife. He knows Sade had his fun with them last week. And still they allow the abuse - it is better under Sade's care than under someone else's. Sade does not indulge himself that often, and he prefers those he has not tasted before. With luck, they only have to suffer him the one time.

“You are different,” The marquis murmurs, likely inferring Arno's thoughts. “I think I would try and make you mine.”

“... I _am_ different. Your task would be futile.”

The marquis stops playing with the girl – _finally_ – and grins, looking like he has solved a most delicious puzzle. “Please, feel free to browse my selection. My pets cater to every need,” Sade cocks his head, “or perhaps it is you who feels he could become a pet?”

Arno sighs, once again exhausted, intending to leave. Before he can make his escape, however, the marquis has his hand in a gentle grip. “Should you have immediate need for your medicine, you only need to ask.”

Arno is rendered speechless. He does not dare to squeeze Sade’s hand in confirmation – he is uncomfortable with this sudden intimacy – but one corner of his mouth almost quirks up. “Thank you.”

*

He is a lot less thankful when he is once more in Élise’s orbit, and he decides to consult Sade with her in tow. She has more sense than Arno and refuses to grant the marquis her name and introduction. Arno has to distract the marquis more than once to keep the alpha’s attention away from Élise, but the marquis is not so easily dissuaded. In the end it is Élise who makes the final dismissal; Arno is used to Sade but no less frustrated when the alpha comments on _the visage two beautiful omegas together in bed could elicit_. Élise’s demeanor, already brittle, turns stony with murderous intent.

They leave and she keeps close.

“You have sought heat suppressants from him, haven’t you?”

Arno looks surprised. He didn’t think his lack of scent bothered her; and she must be better informed than he knew, for her to understand from whom he would have sought help from. (The fact that he couldn’t receive help from his Brotherhood had surprised _him_.)

“Get rid of them.”

She will not look at him, but Arno’s heart is already soaring. He thinks he might tease her a little and stays silent. It is not until she kisses him, that he gives her his answer. “I am yours, as I ever was.”

*

Pierre Bellec is enraged to discover Élise de la Serre’s role in Arno’s life. The Templar would be dead if he had his way, but for now this – this _farce_ between their Creed and the usurper is in effect. He must prepare for what needs to be done.

Omegas do not bond with each other.

It's unnatural.

Bellec never saw himself as Arno's alpha, but he sets out to correct the omega's inclinations, as is his duty as an alpha and an assassin, and because he owes it to Arno's father to keep his friend’s son on the right path.

He has never bedded a male omega before - there have always been plenty of omega women for him to take pleasure from - and the thought of doing this to his surrogate son makes him drown more than a few bottles.

When he finds Arno, the boy slaps his hands away, disgust plain on his face. “Cease this, Bellec. You are drunk.” It's true. He probably smells worse than usual.

He sways on his feet, eyes turning glassy, and it's this that gives him an opening when Arno falters, worrying about his mentor when he should be worrying about himself. Bellec grabs Arno's neck in a rough hold and shoves his tongue deep to the sound of a muffled, frustrated yell. Arno is trying so hard not to hurt him, but the tongue will not go away and the omega snarls, teeth gnashing until Bellec's tongue and lips are bleeding. Even then Arno has to wrestle himself free, and when Bellec lets go, the alpha receives an elbow to the face, followed by a punch to the throat that has him choking and falling to his knees.

Arno makes a parting remark. “Never, _ever_ \- do you hear me? _Never_ do that again.”

Then, the omega walks away, before he is forced to cut Bellec's throat.

When Bellec has partially caught his breath, still wheezing and coughing, he takes notice of his broken nose, and grunts. He's almost proud. Definitely fond.

_Well done._

*

After, Arno avoids Bellec to the best of his abilities. Until he can’t.

*

Bellec tells Arno about his plans for a purge, but the boy is not listening. Arno argues back in defense of unity; how in the American Colonies they have created something new thanks to the efforts of a Templar Grandmaster and an Assassin leader. Bellec scoffs at the naïveté and asks him to join forces - _his side_ \- once more, his plea born out of desperation than actual trust, but Arno keeps refusing him. Their fight is brutal.

It isn’t until Bellec spots Élise outside the chapel that the alpha fully understands why his philosophy hasn’t taken root; why the omega’s mind has been well and truly poisoned.

He's prepared to do what it takes for the sake of the Brotherhood. Prepared to take _his_.

Bellec drops down on Arno, and his omega fails to resist when his hands are pulled behind his back and tied together. Bellec makes his omega present his arse, positioning himself between his omega's wide-spread thighs and he’s already pulling down Arno's pants, leaving his omega exposed.

Arno trashes, outraged. The templar whore is screaming at them both - in disgust, in anger, in vain hope - and Bellec allows himself a mirthless laugh.

“I’m doing this for your own sake, pisspot.”

He holds Arno down with one hand, uses the other to grab and spread his omega's cheeks apart; he rubs the opening with his thumb until a drop of slick peeks out, the omega's body unconcerned with what its owner wants or doesn't want. Arno tries to kick at him but it's futile.

He removes his own belt and takes out his cock, giving it a few pumps before it finally hardens. The head catches onto the rim, but Arno will not let him in. Bellec could force his way in. He decides he doesn’t want their first time to be needlessly rough, and so he rubs himself against his omega a few times, before he lets the head of his cock slip out, still connected to its target by a string of slick. He takes a minute to admire the sight - it is almost like toying with a woman - before he reaches forward and lifts Arno so they are chest to back. He removes the hood, rips off enough fabric to leave one shoulder bare; takes hold of Arno's bound hair, twisting it gently around his fingers. With a sudden movement, he pulls it roughly to the side, forcing his omega to bare his neck.

His omega will come to trust him, in time. Right now Bellec needs obedience.

“No,” Arno pleads in horror, realizing the alpha's intent. Bellec chooses not to hear him as he brings his teeth to rest at Arno's mating gland, and then, it's over, because Élise is there to drag Bellec away. She kicks the alpha down so she has enough time to release Arno from his binds; this fight belongs to him, not her. She will be there to finish the fight, if her omega’s life is forfeit.

Arno proves more skilled and focused than Bellec gave him credit for; his best tricks fail to create a distraction.

Even in his last moments Bellec is determined to help Arno. This time it is to test the boy's resolve, see him turn into a man. Arno stands up and towers over the still-not-defeated figure.

“To save the Brotherhood, I would see Paris burn.”

“I know.” And then Arno grants Bellec’s last wish – a clean kill.

*

Élise doesn’t understand his need for Bellec to have a proper burial. It takes him days to recover from his physical injuries. Time will tell what else he is left with.

“Do you hate him?”

Arno will not do the disservice of lying to her. “No,” he answers. “Because I still have you. He did not get to claim me.” _He did not get to violate me,_ he thinks, when Élise is hesitant to touch him. _He almost did,_ his mind betrays when he fails to say anything further and she keeps her distance.

Once, his inaction condemned him to a life without Élise. He will not do the same mistake again. When their heats arrive, they are once more in sync despite time spent apart. He takes her to bed, then, and it is the first time he buries himself inside her. They both want this; a future together. A family. Élise kisses him where Bellec tried to bite him, and his pain lessens.

Their bond remains unbroken.

*

Translations:

Lié = bound, connected, attached

naïveté = naivety

**Author's Note:**

> I actually like Bellec's canon counterpart. It was just very easy to mold him into a bigot, and perhaps, not that far-fetched with his rigid ideals.
> 
> EDIT 18/05/2020:  
> I’m honestly sad this even needs to be said.  
> I am okay with criticism and negative comments about my fics, provided they’re about my fics. If I wasn’t okay with this I would have deleted those comments in the first place when I read them.  
> What I will not stand for are personal attacks against other users or myself. If you don’t agree with another commenter, please do so respectfully. You will NOT use that commenter’s words to start petty wank or wish them harm.  
> For now anonymous commenting for this fic is disabled. I apologize for nuking everything, but I have better things to do than monitor adults behaving badly.


End file.
